My mother says I should marry a doctor, so he can cut away the bad parts of me and give me medicine to feel better
But what if he can’t tell my bad parts from good and what if he slips something else in my medicine?
My mother says I should marry an architect, so he can construct my dreams and lay a foundation so I will never fall
But what if he pushes a pillar when he decided my dreams didn't align with his and what if he thinks that missed calls and silent dinners made a floor stable?
My mother says I should marry a lawyer, so he will always make the rational choice and fight for justice
But what if the rational choice isn’t the choice I want and what if he leaves his justice at the courtroom?
My mother says I should marry a teacher, so he will always teach me and be good to our children
But what if the things he teaches me aren’t written in any other man’s textbook and what if by the time we have children all he can do is scold and reprimand them?
My mother says I should marry an actor, so he will always know what to say and what’s going on with so and so
But what if he doesn't understand that sometimes silence is better than words and what if he doesn’t mean the words he says anyways?
I told my mother I would never marry and she laughed, a sorrowful look in her eyes and said,
To never marry is to be a bird, unprotected by the harsh winds of winter, no nest to stay, no one to love
To never marry is silent nights with no one to keep you company but flickering figures on a screen who say all the right things to make you feel like you’re someone
To never marry is to never know what it is like to be taken care of when you’re old and sick and almost but not quite alone because someone is still by your side
I shook my head and told my mother I could face the fresh snow of winter by myself, but now I lie awake at night wondering